


On Selfishness and Filicide

by raewise



Series: the way you sing off key [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Bad Parenting, Gen, Nonconsensual Memory Alteration, Synth Shaun negative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7483302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewise/pseuds/raewise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rizzo has tried to take care of Shaun, but the wrongness of the situation weighs heavily on her conscience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Selfishness and Filicide

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of beef with synth Shaun, but I think I left most of it out of this. I'll rant at the bottom.
> 
> I don't think this really classifies as abuse, but if you're sensitive about that kind of thing, please don't read this. I wouldn't want anybody to be triggered by this fic.

Rizzo had been tempted to shoot him, end his suffering. She wanted to be greedy, to take his life so that his last moments were spent with  _ her and not with those pieces of shit that took him from her-- _

But she was being selfish. He was an old man, he was her son, and he was a leader to these people. He wasn’t just a baby anymore, pressed up against her breast, cradled in Nate’s arms. And she couldn’t shoot him with that face that was half Nate’s--wide nose and kinky hair and Nate’s eyes… His eyes had the same spark that Nate’s had when he was still alive, and his lips curved in the same way. 

She couldn’t look him in the eye when she killed him. Maybe she was a coward, but she’d rather be a coward than watch the life drain from those eyes again.

Then she was outside the Institute, looking over it with Deacon’s hand on her shoulder and Desdemona’s stare on her back. And a son that wasn’t hers waiting for her at Headquarters. She almost vomited. Rizzo pressed the button, closing her eyes and sniffling. Everyone was celebrating, laughing. Her son--her  _ real _ son--was dead. But she was happy, relieved. (She doesn’t dwell on all the kind people she just murdered--Clayton Holdren, Alli Filmore, and Dr. Volkert. Thinking about it makes her want to fall into a mass of self-hate. They were slave owners, she thought. That’s all it comes down to.)

For a long time she thought relief would be enough to keep her new family together. It was her and her numerous partners and a fake Shaun who was just so small and so innocent. He liked to dig in the garden and play with the dogs and tinker with whatever gadgets she brought for him and he  _ wasn’t her son _ . 

The first time he told her he loved her she sat in bed alone and turned away anyone who tried to comfort her, face stained with tears. 

Rizzo wasn’t sure what was more wrong: her desire to turn away the only living relative she had, or Shaun’s existence in the first place. She loved him, but it wasn’t right pretending that she was his mother or that he was her son. When he tried to hold her hand she shied away, discomfort twisting her gut into a black hole.

Finally, she decided he needed to be where he belonged. 

“Mom, where are we going?” he asked, looking around curiously. He wasn’t scared, and for that Rizzo was thankful.

“Do you remember Tinker Tom and Drummer Boy?” she questioned him, plastering on a fake smile. 

His dark eyes twinkled. “Yeah, they were real nice! And Miss Desdemona too.” His nose wrinkled a bit. “Not Doctor Carrington though. He’s mean.”

She chuckled, genuine. “He’s a good friend to me. I want you to know that you can trust him and everybody else in Headquarters, alright?”

He nodded. “Okay, Mom.”

“Come on. I need to talk to Dez about something.”

He sat in a desk chair near Tinker Tom, sticking a screwdriver into a Railroad stealth boy. She looked at Desdemona seriously as he popped a panel off the side.

“I can’t do this anymore, Dez. He’s not… he’s not my son. I don’t know what to do. I want him to go to a good home but I know he won’t age. Where in the world is a safe place for a little boy who won’t grow up?”

Desdemona didn’t look surprised. Maybe a bit disappointed, but she seemed to understand. “We can do a memory wipe. Send him to the Capital Wasteland like the others. There’s a place in the Capital full of children. We may be able to pull a few strings and place him there, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Little Lamplight? MacCready’s from there. But--no, I’d like him to stay in the Commonwealth where I can make sure he’s safe. He’s not mine, but he’s my responsibility. I know that. I want him to go somewhere he’ll be loved, and he can learn and just. I just want him to be happy. I don’t think he can be happy with me.”

Desdemona lit a cigarette, looking evenly at her, the lines in her face shadowed and deepened by the dull light of the crypt. “A memory wipe is in your best interest. I think you’re right. I think it would be best if he went somewhere else, raised by real parents--however adopted he may be.” She took a drag. “But having you in his life, that might complicate things a little bit. I understand where you’re coming from but I just--”

“I made a promise to Shaun! The real one!” she shouted. She felt stares prickling her at neck and she hunched her shoulders, feeling sick to her stomach. “I need to make it up to him, for missing his whole life. And for betraying his trust. Please, Dez.”

“Okay,” Desdemona said. “Okay.”

Doctor Amari was hesitant to do a procedure on a nonconsensual patient, but Rizzo wasn’t called Charmer for nothing. She agreed, and Shaun was confused but sat down in the memory lounger like he was told. 

“What are we doing here?” he asked, his big brown eyes so much like Nate’s it hurt.

“This will help you remember things about the Institute, so you can give us all the information you can. We’d like to use that information to save more synths if possible.” Rizzo couldn’t look him in the eye anymore as she relayed the false story. 

And he trusted her. Goddammit, the boy trusted her with his memories, his personality, his  _ life _ . And she was going to throw all of it away.

_ It’s for the best _ , she thought.  _ He’ll be a normal boy with a normal life.  _

He was silent during the entire operation. The confused look in his eyes was the same look H2-22 had after his memory wipe. His eyes slid over her and Rizzo let out a sigh of comfort. He didn’t remember her.

“Your name is James Alberto Garcia,” Amari told him. “You are ten years old. You’re an orphan. You lost your parents when you were five and you don’t really remember them that well. You were found by Wiseman and have been raised at the Slog ever since.”

He blinked at her, nodding. “Is he my dad?”

Doctor Amari shook her head. “No, no, James. Wiseman, he’s a good friend to you. You don’t have any parents, alright? No father, no mother. But you are well loved at the Slog. They harvest tarberries there. Tell me about some of the things you like, James.”

“Fixing things. Pulling stuff apart and putting them back together. I love machines.”

“Maybe you’ll be a technician,” Amari offered.

“I would like that,” Shaun whispered, smiling softly.

“Your mother was a beautiful black woman, and you look just like her. Your father was a Latino man. He was strong. You have his smile.”

Rizzo sadly looked at his little feet in the sneakers she gave him. He  _ did _ have his father’s smile, even if Nate hadn’t been Latino. Rizzo wanted Shaun to grow up knowing his heritage, even if hers and Nate’s had to be switched around so he wouldn’t catch on.

She didn’t notice that Shaun was staring at her until he asked, “What’s your name?”

She glanced at Amari, who nodded. “They call me General West, but you can just call me Rizzo if you’d like.”

“You’re a general? Wow!” he exclaimed, clapping happily. “Are you a Minuteman?”

“Yes, James, I am. I protect the people of the Commonwealth--including the people at the Slog. We might meet fairly often. Would you like that?” She sat down next to him on the loveseat, reaching over to take his brown hand, several shades darker than her own.

“Of course! You must have a lot of adventures, huh? Could you tell me a story sometime?”

Rizzo wiped away tears from her eyes. “Yeah, James. On the way over to the Slog.”

He grinned at her and she felt weight lift from her shoulders. 

After the trip to the Slog, James was picked up by Deidre and swung around. Jones came over to ruffle his black hair like he knew him, and Holly watched fondly. Wiseman hung back until James made his way over and hugged him around the waist. The old ghoul rubbed the kid’s shoulder, and smiled.

He’d be okay there. The ghouls knew he was a synth, they knew he wouldn’t grow up. But they wouldn’t either, and Rizzo could only hope he’d be safe. 

_ God, please let this child be safe. For Shaun. And for Nate. _

Turning around and kicking at a pebble in the road, Rizzo made for Sanctuary, a dewey expression on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> So I feel like synth Shaun's existence kind of invalidates the entire Railroad arc you have with real Shaun. Like, the big decision is 'do I want to betray the Railroad and the synths to save my son's life and continue with his legacy, or do I want to free the synths but at the cost of his trust and life?' And the fact that there's immediately a replacement for him makes the sacrifice you just made so pointless. From a storytelling perspective, he's just the most cop-out thing that could've been included in the game.
> 
> Plus, it's kind of creepy? Like, shouldn't he know that he isn't your actual son, and that he's a synth? He should be allowed to make his own decisions, and actually be aware of his own past. It's fucked up to lie to a kid like that about his origins. Although I guess that's kind of hypocritical considering the resolution Rizzo chose.
> 
> idk tell me what you think. Maybe I'm just salty.
> 
> [Buy me a coffee!](http://ko-fi.com/I3I59IAV)


End file.
